


They all run together and never make sense

by stegrits



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Everyone recovers and learns how to handle their emotions, Except K-2, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stegrits/pseuds/stegrits
Summary: They should have died. Instead, the crew of Rogue One find themselves in the med-bay on Yavin 4. The Alliance has left its heroes to recover as it makes its next moves. And while it's going to take time for their wounds -- mental and physical -- to heal, when have any of them ever just gone along with the plan?





	1. Chapter 1

Jyn comes back to consciousness to rhythmic beeping from at least two different machines and the sense her eyebrows are about the only thing that doesn’t hurt. The rest of her aches deeply, strongest at her right knee and left side, and radiating out from there. She slowly opens one eye and then the other without her vision swimming, focusing on a vaguely familiar brown stone ceiling.

It’s the worst beating she’s had, that she knows. She closes her eyes again and tries to remember what happened. There was the beach, Cassian’s arm warm around her as they held each other up, neither of them capable of it on their own. Then an Alliance ship, and the sense of a great light behind them, engulfing Scarif just like it had engulfed Jedha. But, after that, she doesn’t remember. They definitely should have died.

Cassian.

If she’s alive, she knows he is too.

Her eyes open again and she gets up on her right elbow -- the left one would pull at her side too much -- before a cool metal hand touches her shoulder without putting any actual weight on it. It gently forces her back down.

“Please remain still, Sergeant Erso,” says the friendly but firm voice of a med-droid. “You don’t want to reopen your wounds.”

She makes a noise between a groan and a growl, her throat too dry for actual words.

“I will return in a moment with water,” the droid says. She listens to its metallic footsteps and finds she can’t keep her eyes open anymore.

It could be hours later when the sound of the droid setting down a metal cup wakes Jyn again. Her eyes snap open and she takes the time to do a damage assessment. Definitely broken ribs, probably three or four of them, but they don't seem to have punctured anything important and they’re securely bandaged under what appears to be some sort of white, short-sleeved gown. Her leg might be broken too, high up, or she's at least torn something. The same goes for her left shoulder. The cuts on her face itch, and she figures the rest of her body is just as torn up. She's probably missing some internal bleeding or minor organ damage, but whatever the med-droid has given her is holding back the majority of the pain for now.

She's surprised her vision isn't blurry, or that dizziness and nausea aren’t forcing her eyes closed again. No concussion, then.

“How are you feeling, Sergeant Erso?” the droid asks, cheerful, as it helps her drink without allowing her to sit up enough to actually see what's around her. The water tastes faintly of sand.

“I'll live,” Jyn manages as the droid takes back the cup. She manages to turn her head just enough to see it set the cup on a small, high table next to her bed, mostly full of noisy monitors.

“Of course you will,” the droid assures her kindly. Jyn decides it has an almost female voice. She takes a few shallow breaths that only twinge a little.

“Where am I?” she asks. The whole room, small enough that she can see it only contains one other bed, half-curtained in gauzy white and almost close enough to touch, is the same brown stone as the ceiling, recessed lighting casting a cool glow on metal. It smells like damp rock and disinfectant.

“You are currently in the medical bay of the former Alliance headquarters on Yavin 4,” the droid informs Jyn. She repeats the words back to herself to make sure she understands them. She’s not convinced she didn’t suffer some head trauma.

“Former?”

“Yes, Sergeant Erso,” the droid says as Jyn turns her attention back to the ceiling. She’s getting the feeling the droid would like her to shut up and go back to sleep.

“Where are-” she starts. The ugly lump in her throat keeps her from finishing.

“We’re all alive,” Baze’s voice, even gruffer than usual, says from the half-curtained bed. “More or less.” Except for, of course, K-2. 

“Baze!” Jyn says. She sits straight up and then leans forward, holding her ribs. The droid makes a whirring sound in distress.

“Please remain still,” it advises as Jyn wheezes a little and tries not to cough. Baze makes a sort of stilted laugh, so they must be in about the same shape.

“Let me see him,” Jyn insists, reaching for the sheet tucking her in tightly at the waist in an attempt to get up. The fact that she’s attached to the monitors on the bedside table is only going to slow her down momentarily, especially now that she realizes there’s some sort of protective brace around her knee.

The droid waves an insistent hand at her as it rushes over to the curtain by Baze’s bed and pulls it back. Jyn finds she can turn to look at him without pain.

“Hey, little sister,” Baze croaks, and Jyn smiles even though it hurts the side of her cheek. He's sitting up in bed and shifts so his torso is facing her. It's a mess of bandages, except for over his heart. There Jyn can almost read the black words in a slanting almost calligraphic script.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It says, Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?” Baze says, dragging Jyn away from her thoughts.

Jyn seriously expects Baze to shift away from her, to cover up the writing. Soulmate marks -- the first thing your soulmate will say to you, written over your heart in their handwriting -- are rare, often kept deeply private, and not at all understood. They are said to be some working of fate or even the Force, a sign from whatever organizes the universe there is one person out there who could perfectly understand you.

Could.

Because here’s the thing. Just having your soulmate’s words with you doesn't mean you automatically get a happily ever after. Jyn once met a man, one of Saw Gerrera’s rebels, who claimed to have shot his Stormtrooper soulmate point blank in the chest, on opposite sides of the fight for some moon or another. Both of their marks were only garbled curses and the man died that same month anyway.

“It says, _Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?_ ” Baze says, dragging Jyn away from her thoughts.

“I got off lucky,” Baze continues, slowly and through deep breaths. “His just says _What?_ ”

Jyn laughs. It fits with what she knows about Baze and Chirrut, and she considers Baze again. He looks tired and a little pale.

“You should rest,” she says more quietly. Baze just nods, so she knows he’s really in pain, and the droid makes an approving sound before busying itself with Baze’s monitors. Neither Baze nor Jyn tell it to close the curtain again, but she doesn’t watch as he lies back and slowly closes his eyes.

Jyn woke up in prison on the morning of her 18th birthday to a burning sensation on the skin over her heart. In the dark, without a mirror, it took her a long time to figured out what the thin, spiky words said.

_When was the last time you were in contact with your father?_

For years, she abstractly hated the man who was going to say that to her, because she had to rub away sweat and grime to know his words, because she wasn’t free to meet him, because he wasn’t there to help her, and because she wanted help. So she helped herself, and then she met him and she hated him almost as much as she didn’t trust him. Then she trusted him and found she didn’t hate him anymore. She understood him.

She should have known her father wasn’t dead. He was too smart for that. And she should have known he would come back into her life only once she had really given up hope of ever seeing him again. She should have known he would leave her again, this time for good.

“Sergeant Erso, there was a message left for you,” the droid says, apparently done tending to Baze and now back to bothering her. Jyn senses that, for someone who’s supposed to be recovering, she’s going to get her thoughts interrupted a lot today.

“Just call me Jyn,” she says quietly, although Baze is snoring softly and shows no signs of stirring. “Who’s it from.”

“Chancellor Mothma,” the droid replies. Jyn sighs.

“Will you let me get up to answer it?” she asks. The droid whirs as it apparently runs some sort of simulation to see if this is going to lead to Jyn bleeding.

“Please allow me to assist you,” the droid says after a moment, going around to the bedside table to carefully unhook Jyn from the monitors and then offering her a long and skinny metal arm. Jyn has no idea where the rest of her clothes are, but her boots are tucked neatly next to the table. Putting them on hurts, but she won’t let the droid help her stand up either. Her leg hurts more than her ribs, but it feels secure, and when she finally leans on the droid’s arm she finds she’s able to limp along without any additional pain.

“Fine,” Jyn says as the reach the door. “But I want to see everyone else first.”

“Chancellor Mothma did advise me you would be the least cooperative patient, Jyn,” the droid replies.

“She didn’t tell you the half of it,” Jyn tells her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, you can hit me up on tumblr at saintgrits.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Could you think a little quieter?” Chirruit asks, his voice strong. “Some of us are trying to rest.”

The med-bay has a singular bacta tank in a small central room, and that’s where Bodhi is, unconscious and obscured by the fluid to the point where Jyn can’t really make out the extent of his injuries. There's a host of other equipment and a bed in the room too, but Jyn opts to lean heavily on the droid’s arm instead of sitting, so she doesn't have to bend her leg.

Poor Bodhi, who was brave when it really mattered. Jyn resolves -- when he wakes up, don’t think about _if_ \-- to tell him everything she can remember about her father, everything he planted on Lah’mu or said to her mother. It's going to hurt her, so she doesn't say that promise out loud.

“What happened?” she asks instead.

“Mr. Rook sustained severe injuries, largely burns and some shrapnel wounds, in a grenade blast,” the droid explains.

“He’s going to be all right,” Jyn says, less than half a question. She suspects Bodhi has more stories about her father than she does, and that in time he’ll gladly share them in return. When he wakes up.

“He has an excellent prognosis,” the droid assures Jyn, which is no assurance at all. She pulls her arm away from the droid, which seems to sense her distress. “He’s stable, and there’s a 93 percent chance he’ll make a full and complete recovery,” it adds.

“How long until he’ll be out of there?” Jyn asks, trying to take comfort in the cold facts. She’d still feel better if Bodhi was breathing on his own, though.

“Another 12 to 16 hours, at least,” the droid says. “I am continuously monitoring his progress.”

“I”m sure you are,” Jyn mumbles. Her side is starting to hurt more now, a throbbing pain she is not unfamiliar with. But, she has things to do. She can tell the droid is also keeping an eye on her, and she figures she has another 20 minutes before it gently drags her back to her bed.

There are four rooms in the med-bay, organized around the room with the bacta tank, and the droid leads Jyn to the one next to her and Baze’s.

Jyn regards Chirrut first, not just because he is closest but so she can put off looking at Cassian. Like Baze, Chirrut is heavily bandaged, and Jyn thinks he’s sleeping rather than unconscious, his arms folded neatly across his chest.

“Mr. Imwe is recovering much more quickly than expected,” the droid notes, its voice dropping in volume. “Unfortunately, one of the blaster shots partially ruptured his spleen.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Jyn says, reaching across her body with her free arm to put even more of her weight on the droid. Poor Bodhi, poor Chirrut, poor Baze, even though Jyn doesn’t know what her pity is worth to them.

“It should not require surgery,” the droid continues, and Jyn almost expects it to pat her on the shoulder. She’s very glad when it doesn’t.

“Baze will be happy to hear that,” Jyn says. She replays the image of his soulmate mark and tries to imagine him and Chirrut meeting for the first time, unlined by years and loss. It almost makes her want to smile again.

“He was informed immediately.” Jyn wonders if maybe he knew without having to be told. Of course, he would have been there when it had happened anyway.

She takes her hand away from droid to reach for her crystal and then pulls away from its hold altogether, even though she’s basically dragging her leg as she makes her way to Cassian’s bedside.

He looks pale and worn and beautiful because he’s alive and she wants to brush a strand of hair away from his face but her arms feel heavy.

She wishes very much he'd open his eyes and say something to her, anything. She wishes she was on the other side of the galaxy so she didn’t have to say anything back. This, these people and this situation, is not something she’s going to be able to walk away from, to stuff down in the dark like she’s been doing for so much of her life.

So instead of running she reaches around her neck, takes off her crystal and wraps it twice around Cassian’s hand.

Then she turns and avoids the droid’s glowing eyes, although undoubtedly it’s seen more touching reunions without commentary, and lets it lead her back to bed. Whatever medicines it’s given her seem to be cycling back through her system and she’s almost asleep before she lies down again, facing the door.

\---

Aside from the definitely broken bones and the fact he’s been shot again, the first thing Cassian notices when he wakes up is that he’s holding something. The pain waxes and wanes under a haze of whatever they’ve drugged him with, and as he manages to open his eyes he knows he’s in the Alliance headquarters med-bay. In fact, judging from the ceiling, he’s been in this bed before. Last time he hadn’t been shot though. Or fallen about two stories.

He’d expected to die. He’d expected all of them to die.

Moving his arm hurts, but he clenches his fist and knows what he’s holding without having to look at it. How many times did he see Jyn reach for her necklace for comfort? And now she, for some reason, has left it in his care. He knows she’s alive. He knows they’re all alive, except for his best friend. There was a ship, a soldier he didn’t know slapping bandages on Bodhi as fast as she could. Everyone else in only slightly better states, Jyn beside him in obvious pain.

Jyn Erso. Liar, thief, fighter, child soldier. Wouldn't he apply the same words to himself? Ally, friend, rebel, something more.

“Could you think a little quieter?” Chirruit asks, his voice strong. “Some of us are trying to rest.”

Cassian huffs what would have been a laugh if it didn't hurt too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just finished watching Rogue One for the third time, so the pain is real right now. Thank you so to all who have read/kudoed/commented. As always, you can find me on tumblr as saintgrits.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn Erso does not care what her hair looks like.

Jyn wakes up again in what her internal clock tells her is the early morning, all of her muscles stiff and strained. She senses she should be hungry, but instead she just feels a little sick, no doubt the side effects of whatever’s letting her sleep through the pain. 

Baze isn't in the room, which concerns her, and neither is the med-droid, which concerns her less. What concerns her most is the tall woman standing in the doorway and holding a stack of clothes. Her arrival is probably what woke Jyn, trained as she is to be a light sleeper.

“I didn’t meant to disturb you,” the woman murmurs. She’s maybe 10 years older than Jyn, blonde hair in a tight and perfect bun at the nape of her neck, resting just above the collar of her plan uniform. Despite her lack of insignia, something in the woman’s posture says she’s an officer, so Jyn mumbles a response and sits up.

“I brought you some clothes,” the woman continues, setting the pile on the end of Jyn’s bed. “The droid told me you were about the same size as my partner.”

“You didn’t have to,” Jyn says, leaning forward and feeling every bruise along her arms and chest. But, unless whoever first treated her injuries managed to salvage something, everything Jyn owned besides her necklace was incinerated with Rogue One. 

“Lena won’t mind,” the woman says, but a flash in her expression suggests Lena doesn’t actually know about it. Jyn manages an awkward thank you, and she’d be content to study her own hands if the woman didn’t offer out one of hers.

“I’m Eira,” she says, and her hand is warm and dry. Jyn doesn’t buy her niceness for a second, but the pretending is something like an offering, and she really wants to wear something more substantial than what she’s got. 

“I’m-” Jyn starts, only to have Eira wave a little with the hand Jyn didn’t shake. 

“We know who you are,” Eira says, matter of factly rather than unkindly. “We were at Scarif too.”

Jyn puts a hand over her heart before she realizes her necklace isn’t there anymore. She wonders why Eira is still on Yavin 4, since she doesn’t look injured, but then something in Eira’s eyes shifts again and makes her speak. 

“I’ll let you rest,” Eira says, more softly. “We’re in the third room, or Lena is.” She awkwardly pats the pile of clothes again. “Let me know if they don’t fit.”

“Thank you,” Jyn tells Eira again as she nods and heads down the hall.

The pants are just a little too tight, but everything else stretches to fit Jyn well enough, including a grayish-green sweater. Getting dressed makes her arms burn, especially tying her boots again, but Jyn can’t stand to wear the white gown anymore. She leaves it folded over the side of the bed. 

By the time she gets to her feet, she’s a little clammy and she realizes she should have asked Eira how to get to the comm center, or whatever parts of it the Alliance didn’t take with them. Instead she hobbles next door, twisting back part of her bangs and then scolding herself for being worried about it. 

Jyn Erso does not care what her hair looks like.

She almost runs into Baze and the med-droid, both of whom are coming out of the Chirrut and Cassian’s room. 

“You should be resting,” Baze remarks. He too seems to have opted to use the droid as a kind of mobile crutch, but his face doesn’t look quite as drawn as it did the last time she saw him. 

“You should be resting,” Jyn shoots back anyway, but Baze looks over his shoulder back into the room, and she knows his concern is well meant. “How are they?” she adds.

“Resting,” Baze says, but he’s smiling as Jyn tries to peer around him just to make sure. She notices now he’s wearing a simple, dark tunic and pants and wonders if Eira had a hand in that too. He rests a broad and heavy hand on Jyn’s shoulder for just a moment as she eclipses him. “I’m going to go check on the pilot, who I know will be where he’s supposed to,” he says.

“I’ll stop by after I see what else the Alliance wants from us,” she says. 

“I will escort you,” the med-droid says brightly.

“You won’t rest and now you steal my crutch?” Baze asks, but he’s already nudging the droid in Jyn’s direction and continuing on.

“I give you permission to hit him,” Chirrut says quietly and clearly as Jyn lets the droid stand behind her and lingers in the doorway, pretending like she doesn’t want to bother anyone. She sneaks a look at Cassian’s bed just long enough to see he’s sleeping, and feels a whoosh of both relief and disappointment. 

“I promise not to leave any marks,” she replies just as quietly, moving forward and pressing her hand against Chirrut’s where it rests on top of his blanket. He’s sitting up, and she notices that he too seems to have more color in his face. 

“I think it would be a fair fight,” Chirrut says, but Jyn almost doesn’t hear him because she’s looking at Cassian again. Chirrut shifts slightly and Jyn is afraid he knows every emotion she’s feeling, even if she couldn’t name them herself. “He was awake a little while ago,” Chirrut says.

“He fell,” Jyn tells him. She absolutely hates how small her voice is, that of a child in a hatch again.

“He will recover,” Chirrut says with wonderful certainty. He seems to consider the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment and Jyn slowly releases his hand, wondering when it became so easy to accept the presence of this odd group of people. She’s trusted people before, not many of course, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed their company.

“Mon Mothma left me a message,” she says to Chirrut by way of explanation. “If he-”

“Of course,” Chirrut says. Jyn, unable to say thank you, shuffles out of the room and does not allow herself to look back. 

Jyn Erso does not have a crush. 

She repeats this to herself several times as the med-droid leads her up through several stories of the ziggurat, where it becomes increasingly obvious there are only a handful of people and one droid left at the base. The Alliance has left behind what remains of Rogue One, and Jyn would be familiarly angry about that if she didn’t recognize the shape they were all in. As it is, walking hurts her leg, but stretching her muscles also helps her relieve some of the tension she’s been holding on to. And it keeps her away from her own thoughts until she can see what the Alliance has to say to her.

She reads the message three times, finding that she feels even less angry with each repetition. It’s a dry missive about exactly what happened on Scarif, and a bit vague, no doubt for security reasons. There’s hints about the Alliance’s plan to destroy the Death Star and while Jyn knows she should want to be at the forefront, she finds she mostly just feels tired. She, all of them, already gave so much. In some ways, she feels like they’ve already died, or they’ve outlived their usefulness, but she pushes that idea down as soon as she thinks it in full.

The Alliance did leave Jyn behind, but it didn’t leave her alone. 

She rereads the last line of the message for the fourth time. 

“When able, make contact to discuss extraction and next moves.”

Her reply is one word.

“When.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much, readers, and I really hope you enjoy. I'm working my way around some plot holes, so bear with me. As always, you can find me on tumblr as saintgrits


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian Andor has had crushes before, and a few fleeting relationships before the Rebellion got fully in the way of everything else. This is something different.

_"Fifteen years ago.”_

Cassian replays the words for what must be the thousandth time as he lies in the dark and tries not to think about how much his leg hurts. He listens to Chirrut’s perfectly rhythmic breathing for a few minutes, but it doesn't help.

Cassian is, objectively, lucky. Even though the break in his leg is high up and awkward, he didn't fracture his hip or break anything in his spine. The blaster shot really could have done a lot more damage. Jyn and Baze are already up and walking around, antagonizing the med-droid to no end. Or so Cassian’s heard from Chirrut.

But the fact he hasn't actually _seen_ Jyn yet is maddening him more than he would admit to anyone.

Also, he misses K-2 like he's lost a part of his body.

_"Fifteen years ago.”_

K-2 knew what Cassian’s soulmate mark said from the morning it was burned into his skin, even if Cassian almost never spoke about it, conscious of the fact he was one of only a handful of Rebels he knew had one.

If K-2 were here, he'd give Cassian constant, unwanted updates on every bruise and scratch, but at least Cassian wouldn't be alone with his thoughts.

But K-2 is dead, having saved Cassian’s life one last time, and so here he is. Dying would have been easier, but for some reason Cassian had escaped it once more. He suspects Chirrut would have something to say about why that might be, but Cassian isn't going to wake him up to ask.

_"Fifteen years ago.”_

Cassian Andor has had crushes before, and a few fleeting relationships before the Rebellion got fully in the way of everything else. This is something different. He had, over the years, imagined different aspects of his soulmate -- how her laugh would sound or how she would wear her hair -- but as time went on he thought about her less. She was more like a vague dream he didn’t expect to remember upon waking.

But then he met Jyn, and she was angry, brave, tired, strong, selfish, pretty, fierce, fragile and incredibly real. He’d tried to trust her from the instant they’d both known the words over each other’s heart, even though he’d also thought they were channeled like streams on diverting courses. But trust had come with understanding, and then something else had come with trust. There had been a moment, in the turbolift, when he thought they understood one another perfectly.

But everything makes a little bit more sense when you assume you won’t be alive to deal with the consequences. He wishes very much he’d kissed her then. He’s glad he didn’t. He is absolutely resolved to dragging himself out of this bed in the morning. With that, he drifts into sleep again and doesn’t dream.

 ---

The med-droid fussing is what wakes Cassian up, but once it tells him everyone else is already gathered at Bodhi’s bedside he’s up before it can respond, grabbing for the pile of clothes someone’s left at the foot of his bed.

“You really should remain in bed, Captain Andor,” the droid insists. He wonders how many times it’s said a variation of that sentence in the past few days.

“Just help me get dressed,” he growls. It takes forever, and by the time he’s put on his boots he doesn’t disagree with the droid, but he also has an almost compulsive need to assess what kind of shape everyone’s in. So he grits his teeth and leans on the droid the way he’s leaned on K-2 so many times before and makes a short trip down the hall to the room Bodhi’s in, only to be completely derailed by the sight of Jyn standing near the doorway talking to two other women Cassian vaguely recognizes. He’s never seen her hair down before, and she’s wearing clearly borrowed clothes, but she’s also smiling. The taller of the two other women, blonde and composed, notices Cassian first, but when Jyn does her smile widens and she all but stumbles over to greet him.

He lets go of the droid, which hurries toward Bodhi’s room anyway with a few worried whirs, and wraps both of his arms around Jyn, in front of witnesses.

She laughs a little, the first time he’s ever heard it, and they hold each other up like they did before. It amazes him that she can be both a solid foundation and fit under his chin, but she’s been nothing but a fascinating contradiction since he first met her. He pulls back slightly, trying to figure out how to express that to her.

“Welcome back,” she says, beating him to it. She’s still smiling a little as he appreciates the color of her eyes, lit by a joy almost as forceful as anger.

“Welcome home,” he replies, and she holds him a little tighter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s something I want to show you,” he says, so Jyn is only a half-step behind him.

Eira and Lena leave two days later, and everyone but Bodhi limps up to the not quite empty hangar to help them leave because the alternative is lying in bed. Lena’s right jacket sleeve is pinned up where her hand used to be, but the set of her gray eyes suggests she was already pale and serious before the loss. She casually brushes away the majority of Eira’s attempts to help her with lifting or opening anything, which endears her to Jyn because she would do the same thing. 

Everyone’s personal distractions cloud the parting. The Alliance has been sending almost constant messages to Jyn and Cassian, asking when they’ll be back on their feet, when they’ll at least be fit to travel. Jyn’s not sure if the rebels seriously expect them to fight or if they just want the morale boost associated with showing off a group that has so often defied the Empire and lived to talk about it. 

Jyn Erso is not a figurehead for anything. 

So she and Cassian read the messages over one another’s shoulders and kept their answers vague as they both acted like being comfortable with one another didn’t scare them both. Another battle obviously looms, but despite personal feeling the fact remains that neither Jyn nor Cassian can even walk without the crutches Baze -- brushing aside any thank-yous -- made for them, Bodhi appears more bandage than man, and Chirrut and Baze have to feel the weight of their years. Whatever the Alliance does next, it will have to be done without Rogue One.   
Given the hints in the messages, Jyn finds she is not as worried as she might have been.

Eira shakes their hands with exactly the right amount of decorous courtesy and Lena tries not to grimace. Cassian murmurs something to each of them, but Jyn doesn’t catch what it is.

“Leaving so soon?” Chirrut asks with his gentle humor, once Cassian steps back to where Jyn is leaning against some empty crates. Their shoulders almost touch. 

“We’ll find a way to help,” Eira says gravely. Next to her, Lena brushes her hand along Eira’s sleeve in the first tender gesture Jyn has seen from her. “Even if we can’t fly,” Eira adds.

“So will we,” Cassian replies with a nod, and Jyn knows he means it. But first they’re going to have to sort out what parts of them are still capable of helping.

Once the women leave in a fighter that, like them, has seen sturdier days, Baze wanders toward the kitchen and Chirrut and his staff slowly begin to make their way down to Bodhi’s bedside after he brushes his hand along each of their shoulders. Cassian is the first to move then, but instead of following Chirrut he starts to cut across the hangar.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he says, so Jyn is only a half-step behind him. She had assumed everything left in the hangar was broken beyond repair, besides the one fighter Eira had spent all of her free time fixing up. They pass another X-wing that certainly won’t be flying anytime soon, but then Cassian stops in front of a U-wing that looks in relatively solid shape.

“Baze offered to help me fix it up, but I’m also waiting for Bodhi,” he says. Jyn stops next to him, conscious of the fact that she only comes up to about the top of his shoulder. She wishes he would lean against her a little. She wishes she could lean against him without having to say anything.

“It would be nice to not have to rely on a ride,” she remarks instead, still looking at the U-wing because she suspects Cassian is looking at her and she finds she doesn’t want him to stop. 

“I thought,” he says carefully, “since it won’t be part of a squadron, we could call it Stardust.”

She smiles at him without even thinking about it, easy and real, and then her mind catches up. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, because it needs to be said. She hopes he hears: I’m sorry I couldn’t trust you, I’m sorry I called you a Stormtrooper, I’m sorry K-2 is gone, I’m sorry you got shot, I’m sorry for everything you had to do.

“I’m sorry, too,” he says, eyes warm and earnest. She hears: I’m sorry about your mother, I’m sorry about your father, I’m sorry about Saw, I’m sorry you were left behind, I’m sorry you were alone, I’m sorry for everything you went through.

Jyn’s had flings before, all of them brief and relatively anonymous. But Cassian, who has seen Jyn at both her lowest and her bravest, when she wanted to die and when she thought she was going to, is looking at Jyn like he knows something about her. She gives herself a few seconds to realize she is willing to let him learn more. 

She also realizes it’s going to be hard not to fall in love with her soulmate. If she hasn’t, at least a little bit, already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna blow up the Death Star next chapter :) Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The message arrives in the cooler but still muggy hours before Yavin 4’s dawn.

They wait all day and long into the night for word from the Alliance. Baze paces the mostly dark comm center like an animal in a cage, only occasionally accepting a calm press on the shoulder from Chirrut. They push together a few of the more comfortable chairs into a sort of bed for Bodhi to recline in, from which he occasionally babbles his way through a story.

But mostly they wait in deeply anxious silence, Cassian almost entirely motionless as Jyn chews her nails down to ragged nothingness.

Sometime in the evening, they stop to pretend to eat something from the kitchen, Baze being too distracted to render their left-behind rations any more palatable.

Afterward, in a slightly improved mood, Chirrut tells them about the first time he got Baze drunk, and Bodhi gets most of the way through a story about an accidental fire set by one of his flight school classmates before he dozes off for a few minutes.

The message arrives in the cooler but still muggy hours before Yavin 4’s dawn. The five of them hold their breath collectively, standing motionless in various amounts of pain in front of the working terminal until Jyn looks at Cassian and he reads the words out loud.

“Target destroyed.”

Jyn laughs until she sees Chirrut has his face pressed against Baze’s chest, which makes her cry. She turns and sees Bodhi’s face, his expression a combination of disbelief and profound amazement, and laughs again. Then she looks at Cassian, who opens his arms, but instead of crying this time she closes her eyes against the warm hollow of his neck. His hand rests at the top of her spine and she tries to put words to what she feels.

At the forefront is knee-quivering relief, chased closely by a kind of joy she didn't know she was capable of anymore. With those swirl grief, pride at what they've accomplished, sorrow, pain, a little rage at not being able to do more. And hope.

Jyn pulls away from Cassian, blinking and overwhelmed, and he lets her go, gently. She hugs everyone else -- Bodhi is by far the gentlest -- and then manages to slip outside, crutch and all, as Baze pulls out a flask of something she wants nothing to do with.

Outside, past the edge of the hangar, the stars that connect Jyn to the rest of the galaxy are partially obscured by mist and cloud, but she knows they remain, shining, still. Before she can indulge in more reflective thoughts, she hears footsteps and turns.

She should have known that Cassian would follow her. Cassian, who has never left her behind, even when she would have understood if he did.

“Did you want to be alone?” he asks, but he makes his way over to her anyway. In the shadows from whatever backup lighting is still on in the hangar, she can’t make out his expression as she closes the small distance still left between them and kisses him. He makes a sound that might be a gasp of surprise or her name, but then she feels him smile.

Jyn Erso has never kissed anyone who knew her real name.

And even though her leg hurts because she has to stretch upward to reach him, and she’s exhausted, it’s a very good kiss because Cassian is warm and real and he _knows_ Jyn, as much as she can be known by another person. Her heart is racing, and she almost thinks, as she reaches around Cassian’s neck and feels the cord of her mother’s necklace there, she can feel his too. It’s what she imagined, what she hoped for, but as usual she doesn’t know how to tell him that, so when they part to catch their breath she just considers his dark eyes instead, their faces still just inches apart. He looks worn out, apprehensive, happy and a little triumphant.

“We did it,” she says, even though she doesn’t know exactly what she means. Cassian brushes a piece of her hair back in a gesture so tender that for a moment she thinks that’s what’s going to make her sob again.

“I know,” he says, and she figures he does because he’s the one who kisses her this time.

“I think,” she says after, having turned her attention starward again, “Baze would feel much better if he and Chirrut were in the same med-bay room.”

Next to her, Cassian laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I finally decided this will end up being about 10 chapters. Thank you kindly for reading this, and as always you can find me on tumblr as saintgrits


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe,” Chirrut says as he passes all of them and heads back into the hangar with his bounty, “I just asked it nicely.”

By unanimous agreement, they turn down any kind of recognition, the ceremony and medals. 

Cassian is the one who gets the invitation, presumably because the Alliance felt he'd be more receptive to it, but he doesn't look enthusiastic either way. Jyn suspects it’s because he likes the anonymity and freedom of working behind the scenes. A spy is only as good as his cover, after all.

They haven’t kissed again, each of them instead simply revolving near the other’s orbit. But Jyn is quickly getting used to Cassian being in the same room, especially since Chirrut insisted on swapping Jyn beds without anyone else even bringing up the subject. In fact, Jyn’s getting used to all of them, whatever that means. 

“We could go,” Cassian says once Jyn’s also read the message, but his voice is conspicuously neutral. They could, but they’d be a sorry sight, scarred, limping and in borrowed clothes. And Jyn in particular doesn’t like the idea of pretending she’s been on the rebel’s side for more than a few days. She doesn’t want to stand up in front of everyone applauding her and feel like an imposter.

“That's not why I did it,” she murmurs, recalling her father’s face at the end. 

Bodhi, when they find him to ask him about it, is sitting on a slightly dented crate, considering Stardust like it’s a mathematical problem he’s on the verge of unravelling.

“It won’t run the way it is now,” he says without turning around, before Jyn and Cassian even fully reach him. “The S-foils won’t retract, and that’s before you even get into the engine problems. I think-”

“We’ll get you whatever you need,” Cassian assures him. Jyn considers the U-wing as Cassian relays the message. The ship doesn’t look so bad to Jyn, but then again it’s not exactly her area of expertise, so she turns her attention instead to the bandages wrapped neatly around Bodhi’s neck. Soon he’ll be mostly shiny new skin, but at some level the damage is always going to be there.

“What if,” Bodhi says after a few seconds of thoughtful silence, “They all hate me.”

He’s not wearing his Imperial uniform anymore, but Jyn gets the gist of his meaning. The only nice part about the anger rising up in her chest is it’s righteous, a definite improvement. 

“They don’t know anything about you,” she tells him fiercely, but really it’s not like she knows all that much about him either. But at least she’s trying. 

“They know what you did,” Cassian adds firmly. They’re trying, but Bodhi considers a piece of metal near his foot.

“I just delivered the message,” he says without looking at either of them. This is, Jyn understands now, grief for Jedha and her father and for everything Bodhi gave up without wanting to, probably mixed with some serious survivor’s guilt. 

“You saved all of us,” Jyn tells him in solidarity, and he picks up the metal and looks back to Stardust, considering.

“We’re not finished,” he says. “I don’t need a medal. Not yet.”

Cassian smiles and so Bodhi wanders with them to the entrance of the hangar, where they nearly run into Chirrut, emerging from the nearly steaming air with some sort of red-scaled fish almost too big for him to carry. Baze, his shadow, at least looks amused by the situation. 

“Where did you find that?” Cassian asks, naturally suspicious. 

“How did you catch it?” Bodhi asks only a second later, in genuine disbelief. 

“Maybe,” Chirrut says as he passes all of them and heads back into the hangar with his bounty, “I just asked it nicely.”

Bodhi, Cassian and Jyn all look to Baze for more of an explanation, but instead he just lowers one shoulder and says, “It worked on me.”

They can hear Chirrut chuckle from somewhere inside, and Jyn finds smiling seems to be getting easier with almost every passing hour. Instead of hurrying after Chirrut, Baze stops in front of Jyn in particular. 

“Chirrut says we know what we did, and it wasn’t for what others would say after we’d done it,” he says. Jyn nods so he knows she understands what he meant, even if she isn’t sure how he knew to say anything in the first place.

“You said you’d clean it,” Chirrut calls, which gets Baze’s attention, so he bestows upon them a look that is both gruff and fond and heads inside.

“There’s no way that’s poisonous, is there?” Bodhi asks after a few beats.

They rush inside, just to be sure. 

So, instead of medals, Rogue One has a good dinner and messages from Luke Skywalker. “We won’t forget what you did, or what your father did,” part of Jyn’s reads, which she believes to be true. “Thank you for giving us the chance,” Cassian’s says, which she believes is what he wants. Whatever Bodhi’s says makes him sniffle a little, but everyone else just pretends not to notice. Baze murmurs the words of theirs to Chirruit, who closes his eyes to consider it.

“The Force is strong with him,” Chirrut says with his slow, true smile.

Jyn hopes that’s enough. And if it’s not, Rogue One will be there again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!


	9. Chapter 9

The Alliance continues on, and away from it Jyn learns many things about her companions, the complex contradictions they are, over the next several weeks.

The first thing that happens, once they can move their limbs and breathe with a minimal amount of pain, Chirrut teaches Bodhi, Jyn and Cassian to meditate. 

He actually starts with Bodhi, the two of them already sitting cross-legged and straight backed just outside the hangar when Jyn and Cassian wander out. Baze had kicked them out of the kitchen after breakfast, insisting that, unlike them, his leg gives him no trouble and therefore he could finish the dishes by himself. 

They’d taken the hint, and found Chirrut and Bodhi engulfed in Yavin 4’s steaming sunlight.

“Remember, there’s no doubt, only understanding,” Chirrut murmurs, a clue this isn’t their first meeting. But Bodhi fidgets a little, probably hearing Jyn and Cassian’s footsteps. Chirrut only smiles. 

“Sit down,” he says. “You can learn too.”

Jyn and Cassian pull over crates in unison, neither of them able to bend their legs for that long yet. 

“We just … close our eyes?” Jyn asks, doing it and feeling a little silly. She hates feeling silly.

“Yes,” Chirrut says, like it’s obvious.

“You’re throwing off my concentration,” Bodhi says, like a brother. 

Cassian laughs lightly, like the infuriation he is. But it’s a nice sound, so she only screws up her nose at him a little. Just so he doesn’t get too comfortable.

Chirrut waits a few seconds for all of them to settle before he speaks.

“Imagine a delicate blossom, opening and closing with your breathing,” Chirrut begins, but into Jyn’s mind comes the image gears turning in a perfect, eternal rhythm. They turn clockwise as she breathes in deeply, pause for a second, and then move back as she exhales. 

With the sounds of unfamiliar birds and bugs, she can’t hear the others breathing.

“Good,” Chirrut murmurs as he stands and walks somewhere in between his three students. “Know that what you see is a part of you, is a part of everything. Feel the connection as you breathe.”

Jyn feels Cassian and Bodhi and Chirrut, or she just knows they’re there. Without meaning to, she imagines a hatch in the ground, matching the metallic glint of the gears. 

“No,” Chirrut says, reaching for Jyn’s arm. “Don’t imagine something inside yourself that you can close off or prison that separates you. Imagine something wide, that connects you to other living things.”

“Like the desert,” Baze suggests, arriving out of nowhere, but into Jyn’s mind comes the ocean. Not the aqua, splashing shallows of Scarif, but the gray, crashing waves of Lah’mu. She thinks sometimes she’s forgotten their topography, but then she’ll dream about standing on the cliffs with her mother and know it’s not true. The waves come and go with her heartbeat, and she follows them in and out. There’s no anger inside her then. 

They fall into a comfortable pattern quickly after that morning, all of them used to routine and getting used to one another. 

Jyn learns Baze, as evidenced by the fish, is the best cook, but he’ll also eat anything. Jyn suspects this comes as the result of long-entrenched habit, in keeping with his scavenged gear. Jyn, of course, can relate, and more than once she’s wandered to the kitchen area to find him grumbling about their supplies and how they’ll need a lot more to fatten everyone up, especially Bodhi. Jyn is self-aware enough to recognize some of the gruff posturing she herself is guilty of. 

Chirrut, despite not being able to see the jungle around them, is by far the most tireless explorer, cataloguing trees and streams by touch and sound, asking Baze -- never out of earshot -- for more details. He exudes calm and peace with every movement and action, but he’s also the first to smile and tell a joke that hurts no one’s feelings. And, because he’s the first to recover fully from his injuries, he supports them with a cool, calloused touch on shoulders or hands. He’s most affectionate with Baze of course, leaning into or against him, but his air of ease automatically makes Jyn more comfortable.

Bodhi, in starts and stops, tells Jyn things about Galen; how he remembered details about minor employees who weren’t even in his department, the one time he said Lyra’s name out loud. Bodhi tries to explain what Saw did to him, how sometimes he loses track of the when and the where, and so in between details Jyn will pick her away around scraps of metal outside Stardust. He’s scattered, reading everything he can get his hands on but so far not finishing any of it, but Jyn sees through it to his good heart. 

Jyn, however, learns the most about Cassian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking I'm going to write one or two more chapters. And then when I'm finished with this, a Groundhog Day fic. Thoughts?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He lets the door close behind him, still gentle.

Jyn catalogues details about Cassian without meaning to. His favorite color is blue, he likes it when Baze concocts something particularly spicy, he thinks drowning would be the worst way to die. 

He usually turns at least once a day to say something to K-2.

He will probably have a slight limp for the rest of his life, especially when it storms. 

He only remembers the shape of his mother’s face, not the details. 

He has a beautiful singing voice but, unlike Bodhi, he prefers not to have an audience. In fact, Jyn only find out on accident. They've all moved out of the med-bay and into some of the rooms closest to the surface, although they still trek downstairs to submit to frequent check-ups and physical therapy. The fresh breezes, no matter how sticky with humidity, are worth it, and Jyn at least has no intention of ever living in a prison again. 

Baze and Chirrut share a room, although not without rearranging some of the furniture to make the space more useable for two people. Bodhi takes a room a few down from them, still thinking he's on the fringes of the group. Cassian takes one of the rooms across the narrow hall from Baze and Chirrut, and without really thinking too much about it Jyn takes the one next to his. 

She's not surprised, then, when Cassian knocks on her door late one night after everyone's bandages have come off. She knows the sound of his footsteps well enough by now. So, even though she was five minutes away from falling asleep, she says, “Come in” after his gentle knock, sitting on the edge of the bed she almost thinks of as hers.

Cassian, like Jyn, wears not so much pajamas as just softer, looser clothes. 

He lets the door close behind him, still gentle. 

They have never done this before, so she lets him stand in the glow of the light panel she was just about to turn off as he gets whatever he needs to settled within himself. 

“Can I?” he forces out, looking more tired than he did during the day, sorting through their remaining supplies. The bluish light highlights every bone in his face, and his eyes burn, night-sky dark. He looks like he’s in physical pain. He probably is. 

Jyn understands perfectly, either because the words over her heart help her along or because she's spent enough time with Cassian now to gauge how close he is to losing it. So much of him is a veneer of control. 

“Yes,” she tells him, pulling back part of the blanket at the same time. For Jyn, who hasn't shared a bed with anyone since she was young enough to sometimes crawl in between her sleeping parents, she suspects she should feel a little uncomfortable. But instead she reaches over to turn out the light with as Cassian settles next to her, back to the door. 

Jyn isn't afraid of or threatened by Cassian. He doesn't, once she saw through a spy’s attempt to appear emotionless, confuse or worry her. He's neither a threat nor a target, he is just a tired man carrying the cage of everything he's done, and knowing Jyn has been hurt before. So if he needs this right now, Jyn is more than glad to give it. She is not so selfish as she’s always pretended. Nature, she thinks, meant her to be generous, just as it meant Cassian to be warmhearted. 

He sighs a little as she pulls the blanket around them. 

“What is it?” she asks, surprised by the softness of her own voice. Cassian pulls Jyn into his arms like she’s something worth treasuring, but not like she’ll break. 

“I should have known my soulmate would be tougher than me,” he says into her temple and Jyn suddenly wants to laugh. Instead she brings a hand up to rest against the warmth of his chest, somewhere between her mother’s necklace -- which he hasn't removed since she left it for him -- and her own words. 

It's nice, bordering on the edge of wonderful even, and Jyn lets herself acknowledge that. It’s not nearly the reach it would have been a few months ago.

“Goodnight,” she says, wondering if Cassian can feel her smile. 

“Goodnight, Jyn,” he says, and she thinks he can. 

She gets so caught up in listening to him breathe, consciously matching the rhythm, that she doesn't fall asleep. Instead she lets herself think about nothing Cassian’s hand on her spine. She wouldn't mind staying like this. 

Distracted as she is, she doesn't notice him singing at first, barely above a whisper and lovely. She suspects he thinks she's asleep, given they never seem to be able to express themselves so well in the light of day, and although Jyn doesn't recognize the language, she would say it's a lullaby. When it's over, Cassian kisses the side of her cheek, right next to her ear. 

Jyn Erso, eyes closed, thinks her heart must be glowing bright enough to fill the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this fluff :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me anyway,” Jyn says, feeling the corners of her mouth pulling down even as she tries to stop them.

There are a hundred thousand ways to cause trouble for the Empire, and Jyn Erso is interested in finding every one of them. She had thought, at first, that after the massive blow of the Battle of Scarif, anything else she did in rebellion would feel like tiny pebbles. But those pebbles add up.

While Bodhi leans on Baze’s creativity to get Stardust off the ground, Chirrut leads Jyn and Cassian in exercises to strengthen their recovering bones and muscles.

Other than that, Rogue One wakes up together, eats all of their meals and then cleans up together, meditates together, walks in the jungle together, stays up into the night making plans, and then goes to bed down the hall from one another. 

After the night Cassian knocked on Jyn’s door, they always share a bed, usually hers, and to the catalogue of information she has on him she adds the way his eyelashes flutter when she kisses him just right.

Bodhi either doesn’t notice the lingering touches or, surprisingly, chooses not to say anything about it. Baze and Chirrut each have their own little approving grins. 

On the morning Bodhi has repeatedly promised Stardust will be ready to go, Jyn wakes up happy, a concept so foreign to her she doesn't realize at first that Cassian has let her sleep. 

She plans to glare at him during breakfast, but Cassian, Baze and Chirrut are deep in discussion when she finds them. Jyn notes Bodhi’s absence as she steals Cassian’s unattended plate and catches the drift of the conversation. 

“It'll be a lot safer,” Cassian says, looking openly at Jyn.

“Safe is relative,” Baze says with a one-shouldered shrug, but Jyn thinks it's more that Baze just likes to look at all the options. 

“I have a contact,” Cassian continues. 

“For what?” Jyn asks, considering all of them. 

“Scan docs, papers, new identities,” Chirrut explains. Baze pushes back his chair. 

“I’ll go wake up our pilot,” he says with a wink at Jyn, who pushes Cassian’s now empty plate back at him.

“Let him sleep for a few more hours,” Cassian replies. “He was up all night and I have to get on the comms.”

In response, Chirrut just tugs a little on Baze’s sleeve and points him toward the dishes. Jyn immediately stands up to help, but Cassian looks at her like he has something to say quietly, so she follows him into the hallway instead. They lean into each other’s space, and then she realizes he looks almost apprehensive.

“What?” she asks with a tilt of her head to tell him to spit it out. 

“I’m afraid you’re not going to like it,” he murmurs, shifting and looking up and down the hallway even though there’s no one to overhear them.

“Tell me anyway,” Jyn says, feeling the corners of her mouth pulling down even as she tries to stop them.

“On your new documents, I think you should use my last name.” 

The words leave Cassian’s mouth in a bit of a rush, and so Jyn replays them to herself, biding for time so she can figure out how to respond. Nervousness, embarrassment, fear and hope all war across Cassian’s face, and she speaks without knowing what the words are going to be.

“All right,” Jyn says evenly, but the surprise in Cassian’s eyes mirrors her own. 

“Jyn, you’re sure?” he asks, scanning her face. She wants to laugh a little, because her name has always meant so much to so many people, but giving it up, or at least part of it, now somehow feels like progress. Jyn Erso died on Scarif, or maybe in a prison on Wobani, or on Jedha with Saw Gerrera, or with her father on Eadu or her mother on Lah’mu. These past weeks have meant learning how to be someone better than that girl was.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she tells him. Now he does laugh a little, and leans down to kiss her forehead. She lets him, but then holds onto his arm and looks him straight in the eye.

“But don’t think I’m marrying you just because I’m taking your last name,” she insists.

“I don’t want you to lose anything else,” Cassian breathes, serious again.

“Actually, I have an idea about that,” she says, and follows him to the comm center. 

When she finds Bodhi, on his way to the hangar with hair an absolute mess, she offers him her father’s last name and he hugs her so tightly she sees stars. She tells him she isn’t the only one in need of a slightly new identity. 

And so Rogue One leaves Yavin 4 behind. Stardust could really use a few brand-new parts, but Baze insists everything will hold until after they meet Cassian’s contact. She’s holed up on some little moon that just happens to be near some highly strategic Imperial supply lines Bodhi has detailed knowledge of. And after meddling there, there’s sure to be another chance.

Jyn Andor has a long life ahead of her, and it's going to be anything but boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually just saw Rogue One again for Valentine's Day. So. I hope you've enjoyed reading this fic as much as I've enjoyed working on it and sharing it with you. Thank you so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song Looking for Astronauts by The National.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as saintgrits. Talk to me about anything and I'll reply kindly to you.
> 
> Notes: In the novelization, Alliance Special Force Lieutenant Sefla conferred the rank of sergeant upon Jyn before they landed on Scarif, so the troops will listen to her. Also, I know the Empire destroys the base on Yavin 4, but I'm kind of messing with that timeline a little bit. Or maybe it won't get destroyed...


End file.
